What are you doing in my garden?
by planet p
Summary: Miss Parker wants to know what Lyle is doing in her garden.


**What are you doing in my garden? **by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own_ the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

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"What are you doing in my garden?" an irritated voice -- which Lyle supposed would be his sister, Miss Parker -- asked from somewhere behind him, back towards the back of the house.

Lyle frowned and turned to face Miss Parker. "I'm not," he told her.

"Then whose garden are you in, _Jarod_, the neighbour's?" Miss Parker asked sarcastically, Donna Noble-like.

"No," Lyle replied. "Or maybe... no. That's," he frowned, "an illogical question, seeing as you can see that I am in this garden, and not either of the neighbouring ones, and that there is a fence-barrier thing in the way."

Miss Parker nodded. "Fence-barrier thing! Do you go to school growing up... for five full seconds?"

Lyle made a face. "I attended a... hmm... school -- yes."

Miss Parker laughed and widened her eyes. "Oh yes, and I saw your school! Charming, I must say!"

"I thought so," Lyle replied, somewhat subdued.

"What are you doing in my garden?" Miss Parker yelled again.

"Standing," Lyle told her plainly.

"No standing!" Parker shrieked.

"I'm starting to think you and Lucy are related -- Lucy and us, that would be actually," he corrected himself. "If Fenigor is her father, and our father too, then she would be our half sister," he said, more to himself than to his sister.

"Fenigor is Lucy's father?" Miss Parker asked, shocked.

Lyle shook his head. "No. I was just theorising."

"Not about Fenigor!" Miss Parker growled. "Get out of my garden, already!"

"Catherine said that was mine," Lyle said quickly, pointing across the neat lawn of the garden to a congregation of young trees.

"Catherine?" Miss Parker growled. "Why can't you say Mother, or Momma -- like any normal person?"

"Because her name is Catherine, actually, her name is Catherine Elaine," Lyle responded.

"Catherine wouldn't say anything to you that you would hear," Miss Parker told him. "You have to have a certain degree of sensitivity and docorum to receive Angelic messages!"

"I'm sorry," Lyle asked, "'angelic' messages?"

"Get. Out. Of. My. Garden!" Miss Parker growled in a low voice.

Lyle shrugged and walked off past her, towards the side of the house.

"And keep out!" Miss Parker yelled at him, and then stared at the stunted, little tree sitting beside one of the larger trees in the garden. What -- for the love of God -- was Sydney's bonsai doing in her garden?

She spun around and ran the way she had seen Lyle go earlier, when she had told him to go, and raced into the drive way and around him and leant her back against the front driver's side door of his car, blocking his way.

"What is that _thing_ doing in my garden?" she hissed menacingly.

Lyle made a face. "You're his friend. Shouldn't you know the answer to that question?"

Miss Parker growled. "Whose friend, you lunatic?"

"Angelo's," Lyle told her.

Miss Parker narrowed her eyes nastily. "Don't you bring Angelo into this!" she scowled.

"February 15. It was his birthday yesterday."

Miss Parker scowled -- angry that Lyle had known Angelo's birthday when she had not, and that anyone could possibly have such a stupid date for a birthday as Valentine's Day. "So what?" she growled, feigning disinterest and annoyance.

Lyle looked away from her, at the parking ticket he had earlier overlooked, tacking to the windshield by the windshield wipers, and shook his head. Even if he couldn't stand her sometimes, at least Lucy corrected him when he was parking in the wrong place, which was much more than could be said of Joy, who he couldn't imagine ever admonishing anyone.

"It gets to grow up, the way Timmy never got to," he replied to his sister's earlier question, wondering if he knew Lucy's cell phone number so he could ring her and start an argument. He was sick of listening to other people's arguments! The way they always argued over the exact same thing and thought they were arguing about something entirely different.

"I have to go," he said, glancing at his sister now. "Would you please step out of the way so I can do so."

Miss Parker narrowed her eyes at him and stepped to one side, away from the car door. "I'm blaming you, if Sydney asks!" she told him.

"Good," he replied, "now go back inside before you get wet."

Miss Parker laughed. It wasn't overcast, she wasn't going to get wet! She stood and watched him drive out of the drive way and thought about Timmy never growing up, about dropping the serum that would have given him that chance.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her back to the road and started back toward her house, at which precise moment the neighbours's sprinkling system in their front yard activated and drenched her in water droplets -- as if it, too, blamed her for Timmy never having the chance to grow up.

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_I just wrote this now, which is one reason why it's so lame, but also because of the title, which is also lame!_

_So, actually, I forgot what I was going to write and just wrote whatever popped into my head, so to speak._

_R&R, if you feel so inclined, and t__hank you for your readership!_


End file.
